Decisions, Decisions
by Mrs. Evil Badnasty
Summary: Just a lil story about what might have happened if Belgarath had sent Polgara to marry Riva instead of Beldaran. All things will be explained. Please R&R. No flames, please.
1. Persuasion and Wounds Reopened

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize and don't recognize belongs to David and Leigh Eddings. They are geniuses and I would kill myself before saying I owned anything that belonged to them.

"Father, why do _I_ have to go? Beldaran is so much more . . . . . well, so much more everything!" Polgara shouted. Belgarath, however, stood firm.

"Aldur told me that I have to send one of my daughters to marry Riva, and I'm deciding to send you. After all, he _did_ have a dream about his future wife, and when he described her to me, it matched you perfectly: dark-haired, one lock of white hair above your left eye, tall, um, beautiful. Well, that's _his _opinion. I'm not saying I agree."

"Oh, shut up. I'm not going. You can't make me."

Belgarath felt her gathering her Will, and quickly gathered his own. "Now, don't do anything stupid, Pol," he said nervously, knowing that, when she lost her temper, she became a danger to all around her.

"My daughter, why art thou so unwilling?" came Aldur's voice. Both of them jumped. His voice was there, but he was not.

"Master, I don't want to marry Riva! You know I don't like being confined to a single place! Why can't Beldaran go? Why me?" Now she was whining, which was very unbecoming of her, and caused Belgarath to want to smack her.

"That," Aldur said, "is a question which man hath been asking for centuries. It is thy destiny that thou wilt travel to the Isle of the Winds and be joined in marriage with Riva Iron-grip, son of Cherek Bear-shoulders."

Polgara still refused to relent. "I'm sorry, Master, but I will not and cannot go to Riva. Who'll look after Father and make sure he doesn't lose his way on the way to the bathroom?"

"That was unkindly said, my daughter," Aldur chided as Belgarath opened his mouth to protest.

"Sorry," Polgara mumbled.

It was at that moment that Beldaran strolled into the room. "Hello, Father. Hello, Pol. Do we have company? I heard voices."

"Greetings to you, little sister," Aldur said to her.

"Oh, hello, Aldur. How are you?" Her tone was conversational, as if "Aldur" was "Pol" or "Uncle".

"I am well, thank thee. And thyself?"

"As well as can be expected. I would offer you some tea, but I can't quite make out where you are."

Aldur chuckled and materialized in their midst. "That would be kind of thee, little sister."

Beldaran went into the kitchen to get Aldur some tea, and Polgara returned to her arguing. "Master, don't make me do this," she pleaded. "I don't want to become one of those idiots they write about in fairy tales: ditzy princesses who simply sit on their thrones admiring their reflections! I want to have more of a purpose in life than to bear children! I want to _be_ somebody! Not just be a name that people hear about and say, 'Oh, yeah, that's the queen, isn't it? Well how is she, since she never comes out to her public?'"

"Pol, you'll only be that if you choose to be. Not all queens and princess sit down admiring their reflections all day. Some of them get up and do stuff," Belgarath commented.

"I don't care. I still don't want to go," she retorted.

Aldur sighed resignedly. "If thou dost not accept that which is thy destiny, then the destinies of all others shall be altered along with thine, and the world will come to ruin. It hath been foretold."

Polgara crossed her arms. "So you're basically saying that if I don't marry this guy I've never met, the whole world will get really messed up? I know about Torak and your Orb and how there's going to be an Age of Prophecy soon and everything, but what does all that have to do with me? I mean, how could my not marrying Riva possibly affect all of history?" She paused, thinking. Then she looked at Aldur, a look of curiousity on her face. "What will happen if I _do _refuse? Specifics, please."

"That, my daughter, is something I pray we shall never find out," Aldur replied, folding his hands in his lap.

Then Beldaran stormed in, completely forgetting about the tea she had gone out to make. Her face was reddish and contorted in what looked like anger. "Pol, why are you being so difficult? It's one thing to say no to Father, but to defy _Aldur_? Now that's just asking for it. You _are _going to go to the Isle of the Winds, and you _will _marry Riva Iron-grip, no ifs, ands, or buts about it."

Polgara was shocked at her sister's apparent insensitivity. "But, Beldaran!" she exclaimed quietly. "I can't believe you! You, of all people, should be on my side! One of the reasons I don't want to go is because I don't want to leave you! Don't you feel the same way?"

Beldaran sighed. "Oh, Pol, of _course _I don't want you to go! I'll miss you horribly, you know that!"

"Then why aren't you siding with me?" Polgara asked her, her eyes filling with tears as the person she thought she could depend on turned against her.

"Because I don't want you to get hurt. The Gods have an idea of what will happen in the future, so they know what to and what not to protect you from. But that's only if everything goes as planned. If something goes wrong, and the Gods get confused, not even they can tell what will happen next. It would leave you and the rest of the world in a very vulnerable position. Please, Pol. If for no one else, do it for yourself. If not even for yourself, then for me. Please?"

Polgara looked down so her father and Aldur wouldn't see the tears that started to trickle down her cheeks. "Well, it looks like you've backed me into a wall," she said. "Congratulations. I'm going." She stalked off.

"Pol, wait!" Beldaran called, holding out a hand to her sister.

"What?" she snapped, whipping her head around angrily. Tears still streamed down her face. "What do you want? You've won! There's nothing I really have anymore that would make me want to stay, anyway. Everyone I've ever loved has just betrayed me."

"Now you're being melodramatic, Pol. You and I both know that's not true," Belgarath said.

"Then, for Aldur's sake, let me be melodramatic, for once in my life! I've always had to be tough! When I discovered that my mother had died when I was born, I was hurting, but I was tough! When you weren't there to comfort me, I was tough! Well, now it's my turn to be the weak one, okay? Is that just all fine and good with you? Because if it's not, then too bad!" she yelled, and ran out of the room.

Belgarath sat there in shock as he felt all the guilt and pain he had tried to leave behind come crashing down on his head like an anvil. He was speechless, and his eyes filled with tears that he immediately tried to choke back.

"I'm sorry about her choice of words, Aldur," Beldaran apologized for her sister after Polgara was gone.

"'Tis not thy fault, little sister. Polgara hath always been an outspoken girl, and she hath not always said what she should have." He turned to Belgarath. "But thou hast done a fine job in raising her, my son. She will be a great Queen."

"I didn't raise her," Belgarath whispered. "She raised herself."

Beldaran got up and went off to find her sister, whose sobs were audible even from her perch at the Tree.

"Strange, what an influence Beldaran has on Pol," Belgarath remarked, trying desperately to change the subject.

"They art sisters, and yet they art more than that. The bond between them is something even I cannot comprehend. Beldaran hath been Polgara's only human friend. I regret to reopen this old wound again, but after Poledra's death, Beldaran was also Polgara's only crutch," Aldur replied.

Belgarath felt the lump in his throat rising, and tried even more desperately to restrain the tears that threatened to spill out of his eyes. "Is their bond at all like the one I shared with--" He choked back a sob. "With Poledra?"

"Oh, deeper, my son. Much deeper. The bond between thee and Poledra was one that was of pure love and the desire to be with each other for eternity. That bond which thy daughters share is one that defies all explanation. Love is a part of it, yes, but only a part. The rest is a mixture of things I cannot define."

Belgarath sat pondering this for several hours, during which Aldur made a silent and unnoticed departure.

Meanwhile, Beldaran was trying to console her sister, but Polgara refused to hear of it.

"Polgara, please! Listen to me! I would give anything to have you stay here for the rest of your life and mine, but the risk is too great! I don't want to hinge the fate of the world on my own personal desires!" she pleaded.

"I am being forced to go to someplace I've never been before, marry a man I've never met before, and rule a country I've only ever heard of! Please tell me that you wouldn't feel the same way I do if you were in my place!" She climbed down from the Tree and sat on the ground. "I'm scared, Beldaran. I'm scared. I'm only sixteen! I don't want to go! Please don't make me go. I'm begging you. You know you can make me do whatever you want me to do. Please, tell me I don't have to go."

As her sister dissolved into tears, Beldaran walked over and took her in her arms. "I would have been ecstatic to marry, but it would have broken my heart to have to leave you. Pol, I love you more than I love anyone else, more than anyone else could ever love you, but something tells me you have to do this. Don't back down on me." She allowed the tears she had been keeping inside to flow freely, and hugged Polgara tightly.

"I love you, too, Beldaran," Polgara whispered, and hugged her sister fiercely in return.

The two sisters sat there, holding each other for what seemed like hours. Finally, an hour or so after sunset, Belgarath came out looking for them.

"Beldaran! Pol!" he called. When he reached the Tree, the girls were both asleep. He translocated them to what used to be his and Poledra's bed, so as not to separate them.

Then he looked up at the massive tree in front of him. Walking up to it, he patted its trunk affectionately. Then he turned around, stood for a moment, and collapsed, sobbing. Polgara's words about being tough echoed in his head over and over again. All the grief he had felt at losing Poledra and the guilt he had felt at not being there for his children's birth returned, and he couldn't bear it.


	2. The *gasp* Apology

A/N: Okei I know I made Belgarath a lil more emotional than he usually is. It adds to the effect. Or at least I thought so. This is actually my first Eddings fanfic, and I suggested this category, so I thought I should publish a fanfic in it, even if it sux. If u review this, plz tell me: do u think I should continue this story? Thanks! Oh yes, and all flames will be used to toast marshmallows at my next camp-out.

Beldaran woke up the next morning to find herself in her parents' old bed and Polgara beside her. She sat up and wiped the gunk out of her eyes that had formed as a result of her tears the previous night.

Climbing out of bed, she searched around for a bathrobe and slippers, and she found that her father had considerately left her and Polgara's morning apparel on a chair. Putting her own on, she walked downstairs to see if her father was up yet, which he was.

"Father?" Beldaran asked, approaching the chair in which Belgarath sat brooding. He didn't respond. He placed a hand on his shoulder and felt him jump.

"Beldaran! Belar, you scared me!" He quickly wiped the tears away from his eyes and tried to look cheerful. "Good morning."

He couldn't fool her, though. "Father, you've been crying. You don't do that very often. What's the matter?"

"Nothing!" he insisted. "I've just been staring at that thing too long." He indicated the candle on the desk in front of him.

Beldaran crossed her arms and shook her head. "That's not true and you know it." She paused. "It's what Pol said, isn't it? About Mother?" She knew she had hit the nail right on the head when he turned his back to her and said nothing.

Suddenly, he jumped up and started yelling. "Dammit, Beldaran! Why did she have to do that to me?" he shouted. The tears were no longer in his eyes, but he began running around the room like a madman, picking up things and throwing them on the floor.

Beldaran remained calm. "Father, it's okay. What Pol said was unnecessary, and she said it only because she didn't want to have to go to Riva. Are you going to let it hurt you this much?"

"I don't have a choice." He got up and went out of the room. Beldaran started to follow, but stopped as Aldur appeared in front of her.

"Let him be," he told her. "He must needs conquer his grief on his own. Thou must not interfere."

"But--" Beldaran protested, but the God held up a silencing hand.

"Thou must not interfere," he repeated.

"Oh, all right. I won't," she grumbled. Aldur disappeared, and Beldaran continued to follow Belgarath. _Don't interfere,_ Aldur said in her head.

"I'm not!" she insisted out loud. "I'm going to ask him a question."

The voice disappeared as well, and she walked into Belgarath's room. He was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. "Father?"

"Leave me alone, Beldaran," he said sullenly.

"When is she leaving?"

"Next week."

"Are we taking her there?"

"No, Riva is coming to the Vale."

"Okay."

"Now will you leave me to be a senile old widower?"

Beldaran smiled. "Yes, Father." She went out of the room and into the old room he used to share with Poledra. Polgara was still asleep on the bed.

"It's time you got up, Pol," Beldaran whispered in her sister's ear.

"No, Father, don't send me away!" Polgara moaned in her sleep. "I want to stay here and cook."

"Polgara, wake up," she said, gently shaking the sleeping woman.

"Huh?" came the half-conscious reply. "What time is it?"

"10:30. Father needs breakfast."

"Let him get it himself. I want to go back to sleep," Polgara groaned as she turned over in her bed.

Beldaran took a deep breath. "GET UP, POLGARA!" she yelled at the top of her lungs.

"Gods, Beldaran, keep your voice down!" came Belgarath's angry voice from the other room. Polgara jumped about six feet into the air before landing on the floor.

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" she shouted furiously, getting up and rubbing her rear end. She crossed to where her blue robe and slippers lay and almost subconsciously put them on. "I didn't do anything to you!"

Beldaran sighed. "No, you didn't. But what you said to Father yesterday really hurt him. I don't think he got any sleep last night. You know he'd been trying to leave his memories of Mother behind. Why did you say those things to him?"

Polgara turned her back to her sister. "He brought those words upon himself. He should have known better than to push me like he did. Hey, I'm going to go take a shower okay?"

"Well, _you _should have known not to push those buttons on Father. You might as well tell him Mother was standing right outside waiting for him, then transform yourself to look just like her and go wait for him. _That _couldn't even have hurt him as much as what you said."

"I'll keep that in mind," Polgara said dryly. "Maybe one day I'll try that. Thanks, Beldaran. I need new ideas."

"You'd better not. I'd kill you. That is, after Father's killed you ten or fifteen times."

Polgara couldn't help but smile. "All right, all right. I'll apologize to him over eggs and juice, does that sound good to you? AFTER I take a shower."

"Fine," Beldaran replied, grinning.

The sisters went downstairs. Beldaran went over to the front door. "Tell Father I went to visit Uncle Beltira and Uncle Belkira." She winked. "Tell him I'll be back whenever he has a need for me to be."

Polgara winked back. "I will," she called as Beldaran walked out. Then she remembered what she had to do, and the smile disappeared from her face.

She took a quick shower, got dressed, and walked over to where her father's study was, took a deep breath, and knocked softly.

"Who is it," came the reply. It was more of a statement than a question.

"It's Pol, Father. Can I come in?"

There was a pause. "No. Go away."

Polgara was more than a little hurt at his response, but she remained submissive. "Please, Father, I need to talk to you."

Belgarath was silent for a moment, then he said, "You said all you needed to say and more yesterday. Leave me alone."

She tried to open the door, but found it was locked. Gathering in her Will, she whispered, "Unlock," and made a little gesture with her hand. The door made a little click, and Polgara opened it.

"Father, I wanted to say I was--"

Belgarath jumped and spun around. "How did you get in here?"

She gave him a Look. "I'm not simple, Old Man. It'll take a lot more than an unspelled door lock to keep me out of your hair."

He turned back around. "I don't feel like talking to anybody right now. Didn't I say that before?"

Polgara very nearly lost her temper at that point, and some of her anger seeped out in her words. "You need to quit feeling sorry for yourself and snap out of it! Crying about all this won't bring Mother back! All it'll do is make you more miserable! Now, I'm sorry for what I said to you yesterday, okey? I was angry and all I wanted to do was inflict pain, which apparently I did. Does that make you feel better, because it's probably the only time you'll ever get an apology out of me!" She stopped. Belgarath's face showed an astonishment to rival Mary's when she found out she would be the mother of the Christ child.

"What was that I just heard? Did the words 'I'm sorry' just escape your lips?" He got up, suddenly wary. "Who are you, and what have you done with Polgara?"

"Oh, stop it. You know not to push your luck. Now are you going to stop moping and come eat some breakfast?" Polgara asked, crossing her arms.

A sudden grin spread across Belgarath's face. "All right," he said. Although he appeared to be cheerful, his grief was still harboring itself inside him. However, he got up and followed his daughter down to the kitchen.

"Oh, by the way," Polgara said nonchalantly, "Beldaran asked me to let you know that she's at Uncle Beltira and Uncle Belkira's tower. She said to call her if you need her."

Belgarath chuckled. "How convenient for you." He sent out a thought to Belkira. _You can send her back, Brother. The tower is still standing and Pol and I have settled our little disagreement._

Belkira laughed in Belgarath's head. _Very well. She's on her way._

A few minutes later, Beldaran strolled in and sat down next to her father, who was busy shoveling eggs, pork, and cheese into his mouth. Seeing her, he stopped for a minute. "Oh! 'Ello, 'el'a'an!" he said with his mouth still full, spraying her with specks of his breakfast.

She giggled and wiped the food off her face with his napkin. "Hello, Father. I take it you're feeling a bit better than before?"

He nodded slightly, then quickly changed the subject. "What did you do at Beltira and Belkira's?"

"I just asked them what they were doing, then I watched them."

"Oh? What were they doing?"

"They were researching the source of the wind."

"Really? What have they discovered so far? Or did they tell you?"

"They said something about the rotation of the Earth and the solar something or other affecting the outer atmospheric layer of some sort. Well, it's all Old Angarak to me, so I'll just leave the scientific stuff to them," she said, wrinkling her nose.

Belgarath laughed. "I think that's a good idea. Some of the stuff they study is too deep for even me."

Polgara came over and sat down next to Beldaran, who hugged her.

"So I guess you apologized. Amazing," Beldaran said dryly.

"Oh, go away," Polgara retorted, pushing her away playfully.

They both laughed as Belgarath finished eating and got up to go study some more. "I need to go back to my study of the depths of the ocean. You can go visit your uncles or something, just don't bother me. I won't be very happy if I'm disturbed." He left the kitchen, then poked his head back in. "By the way, thanks for breakfast, Pol. It was delicious."

Polgara was surprised at the compliment. Usually her father never praised her. "You're welcome," she said after a moment's hesitation. Then she went back over to the sink and began to clean up the dishes.

Another A/N: I know this story is going really slowly so far. I guess this is just Chapter 1, Part 2, more than Chapter 2 itself. Next chapter, Riva will come to the Vale and everything. I promise. J So please review this one and don't be too hard on me about going so slowly. I like to be detailed. It's a great flaw of mine.


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